


The best of fools

by chaoticdean



Series: A Tumblr prompts collection [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Consensual Sex, Dean Winchester Likes It Rough, Friends to Lovers, GOD BLESS BENNY LAFITTE, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Jealous Dean Winchester, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Med Student Castiel (Supernatural), Oblivious Castiel/Dean Winchester, Rough Oral Sex, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26460208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticdean/pseuds/chaoticdean
Summary: Dean and Cas have been friends forever, have been successfully sharing an apartment for 6 years while Cas goes through med-school and Dean works at the local garage. When Dean accepts to go out with Cas to blow out some steam before his best friend enters his finale year of med-school, he doesn't expect this turn of events.Prompt: jealous!Dean + happy Destiel ending (sent in by my friendmisha-moose-dean-burger-loverto celebrate me reaching 1K of followers on Tumblr!)Titled after lyrics from Led Zeppelin's "Since I've been Loving You"
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: A Tumblr prompts collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851427
Comments: 20
Kudos: 295
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	The best of fools

For the record, Dean knew from the get-go that this was a bad idea. But Cas had asked, and Dean might be a lot of things but he certainly isn’t the type of guy who refuses to go out with his best friend of two decades to blow off some steam before he enters his last year of Med school, thank you very much. Even if he has to be up at the crack of dawn, which means he can’t really get wasted. 

Which is a bummer because watching Benny freaking Lafitte (of all people) hitting on Castiel from across the table they’re all sitting at would frankly feel a little bit easier if he had a glass of whisky to toss back right about now. 

“I’m just saying,” Benny says, his southern accent dropping thicker on each word, “it’s the best coffee shop in town, you should come by some time.”

Dean can’t help but roll his eyes. He loves Benny, he truly does. They’ve been friends ever since Dean set foot into town 6 years ago, they’ve even been something else at some point, despite none of them wanting to put a label on whatever the fuck it was, and they’ve still managed to stay friends after they both decided it would probably be better to stop fooling around. 

Benny had probably flirted his way through Dean’s entire social circle at least twice — including Charlie, which was obviously a lost cause seeing as she’s “as gay as fire” (her own words, not Dean’s), but for some reason, he never set his sights on Castiel. Maybe it was because Cas very rarely went out with Dean when they were all together, mainly because he was either too wrapped up in schoolwork or because he was doing rounds at the hospital. Or maybe it was because he noticed the sparkles in Dean’s eyes whenever Cas did join them for a drink once or twice a year.

Now, all of this would probably be fine if Cas was just some random friend of is. 

But he’s not.

It’s taken Dean two decades of friendship and several years of living under the same roof to finally realize that he’s helplessly and hopelessly high heels over his best friend. And he has absolutely no idea how to deal with it, but he’s pretty sure watching your sorta ex fuck-buddy flirting with the love of your life isn’t going to be a good way. 

And it’s not even the fact that Benny is flirting with Cas, because Benny would literally flirt his way through an entire bar on any given day, but rather the fact that Cas seems to be flirting _back_.

Realistically speaking, Dean knows he has no right feeling jealous. He has never said anything to Benny, or — heaven forbid — to Cas, so it’s not like his friends are toying with him. But that knowledge does nothing to ease the pain coming down from his temples to reach his heart or lower his blood pressure. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s gripping his glass until Jo reaches out to pat his arm in a soothing gesture, and Dean finally tears his gaze away from Benny and Cas chatting happily about wherever the fuck they can get great coffee in town to look at her.

“You okay, Winchester?” she asks, a look of mild concern painted on her face, “You don’t look okay.”

“‘m fine, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna head home,” he grumbles, looking down at his club soda like it magically holds the secrets to the universe.

“Yeah, okay, bullshit. What’s going on with you?”

Dean shrugs, still not looking at her. He’s known Jo his whole life, which means that she can basically see right through him approximately 24/7. Which comes in handy, sometimes, but definitely not when Dean’s being overly jealous about something he has no right to be jealous of in the first place.

And as usual, Jo sees past his crappy attempt at shrugging the whole thing off, without even having to look at his face.

“You know, things would be easier if you’d just talk to people instead of waiting for them to finally connect the dots they can’t see,” she quips at him, nursing her beer.

Dean decides he’s not in the mood to talk about all the wrong ways he keeps doing things, and just raises his head to glare at her, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine. I don’t have time to play seven degrees of denial with you tonight, just keep brooding in your corner instead of growing some balls to tell your best friend you want to bend him over the hood of your car and fuck him senseless, whatever.”

“Would you fucking lower your tone?!” Dean almost growls, but both Charlie & Sam and Cas & Benny seem to be too wrapped up in their own private conversations not to have even heard any words.

“See? Not even denying it,” Jo exults, taking another sip of her beer while looking at him.

“What do you want me to say?” Dean grumbles, defeated, “Hey Cas, I’ve been in love with you basically my whole life and I’ve never told you because I’m a fucking asshole and I’m terrified. Wanna hold hands?”

“You know what? It still baffles me to find out the level of drama queen you have inside of you, and I’ve known you my whole life.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m being serious, here. I’m tired of seeing you being miserable every time Cas has even the slightest interaction with another dude, let alone some sort of a relationship with anyone.”

Even the barest mention of Balthazar, Castiel’s dick ex-boyfriend, makes Dean’s blood boil inside his veins. He downs the rest of his drink like it’s a shot, and almost sigh when he doesn’t get the familiar tickling and burning feeling descending to his guts. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Joanna.”

“First off, next time you call me Joanna I _will_ break your hand,” Jo says plainly, and Dean can’t help but scoffs because he _knows_ she’s being serious, “Second, I don’t give a shit. Do something or stop being miserable. Everyone has had enough of your shit.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean’s blood that was boiling fifteen seconds prior just stills, and he almost has trouble breathing.

“Listen, pal, I know you’re adamant on convincing everyone that you’re a tough guy that doesn’t need anyone, but the only one around this table that hasn’t figured out that you’re in love with Cas, is Cas.”

He knows Jo’s concern is coming from a place of love, and somewhere in the darkest corner of his mind he knows she’s right, but that doesn’t stop him from denying it.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Okay. Whatever. Stay in your own misery.”

Jo then proceeds to turn around to pick up the conversation with Sam and Charlie, and Dean makes the mistake of glancing back at Cas and Benny… and finds them on the dance-floor, dancing suggestively against each other. Both of Benny’s hands are on Cas’ hips, his back to Benny’s chest, and he even has the audacity to turn his head just enough to watch his partner dance against him. Dean’s heart feels like it’s gonna explode, and he fucking hates himself for it because deep down he knows Cas deserves this. He deserves to have one good night and one good fuck every now and then, and Dean’s hates himself, even more, knowing that if Cas does end up with Benny tonight, he’ll certainly have a good time. Hell, Dean certainly did, at some point. 

Okay, he needs alcohol now. Stat, before he loses it.

He rises from his spot and can almost feel Jo’s eyes following him as he makes his way to the bar. He props himself against the counter, orders a glass of whisky, and downs it the second the bartender pours it. 

There it is. The familiar tingles of the alcohol making its way to his guts, the burning sensation that comes with it, and finally, finally the customary numbness working its way through his heart.

Dean slightly closes his eyes, humming low before he asks for another and makes his way back to the table, and is surprised to find both Jo and Charlie eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s up with you?” Charlie asks, concern rising through her voice as Dean sits back down on his seat. 

“Nothing.”

“Is it because Benny is trying to get into Cas’ pants?”

Jo can’t suppress a laugh and Dean turns his eyes to look at both of his friends slow dancing to yet another crappy pop song, “Trying? I think he’s doing just fine.”

He doesn’t mean to sound this bitter, yet he knows he does. It’s not like he owns Cas. And no amount of whisky is going to soothe this, apparently.

It’s not like it really ever does, anyway.

“Does he know?” he asks Jo, ripping his gaze away from Benny and Cas to glare at her, “You told me everyone knows about me being a fucking idiot over Cas, does Benny know?”

“I think he does,” Charlie answers before Jo can even think of a snappy answer, sticking her chin out to point at the dance-floor.

Benny is looking at them, but his gaze is pointed at Dean, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He even has the audacity of winking at them, before he turns his attention back to Cas, who’s so oblivious to the whole thing that he grins at Dean when he catches his gaze.

Dean holds it, Cas’ baby blues firmly locked with his, and he can almost feel the rise of striking pain throbbing through his veins. It lasts approximately 3 seconds before Cas’ attention turns back to Benny, but to Dean, it feels like a whole hour has passed. He downs the rest of his drink down his throat before he rises up, grabbing his jacket.

He may be a tad masochist, but he doesn’t have to stay to witness this shit show. He’ll have enough on his plate tomorrow morning when he has to face Benny and Cas inside their kitchen after they fucked their way through the night.

He’s about to leave when a strong hand cups his shoulder, holding him steady, and he turns back to look at Sam, who’s coming back from God knows where, his phone in hand.

“Where are you going? Jess is on her way.”

“Home. I’m tired, it’s almost midnight and I have to be up at 7 tomorrow.”

Sam eyes him carefully like he’s trying to make sense of what’s going on, and Dean can almost follow the way his eyes catch the empty whisky glass sitting at his place, and back to Dean’s eyes.

“You’re okay to drive?”

“Yes, mom, I’ve only had a couple of drinks. I’ll be fine.”

“What about Cas?”

Ah, yes, Cas. The holy subject. Dean’s blood boils again, and he can’t contain the surge of anger coming through his teeth, though he does try.

“Benny can take Cas home. Or wherever the fuck he wants to get in bed with him, I don’t fucking care.”

He almost elbows Sam as he takes off, making his way to the door and ignoring Sam’s concerned “Dean”. The cold air hits him in the face, almost clearing his head on the spot. Dean reaches for his key inside his jacket’s pocket as he walks toward his car, sliding into his seat and taking both of his hands to his forehead.

He almost doesn’t register the sound of footsteps heading his way until a deep voice calls him out, and suddenly Castiel is standing right there in front of him, a curious look on his face.

“Where are you going? I thought we were riding home together?” 

There’s concern floating inside that deep voice of his, and Dean can’t help but melt a little as Cas slightly tilts his head to look at him. He looks so fucking good in that navy blue shirt, his dark hair gloriously disheveled, slight sweat going down his temples, and Dean can’t almost feel the ache of his heart just by looking at him. For once he wishes he could reach out, clutch him closer against him and melt against his chest. But he can’t. Cas doesn’t want him. Cas doesn’t need to have another wreck to deal with on top of his studies and his work.

“What’s going on, Dean? You don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine, Gosh, why does everyone insists on telling me I look like a fucking train wreck?” Dean snaps, unable to contain the wave of anger and frustration that has been rotting inside his guts ever since he had to be a witness in Benny and Cas’ flirt game.

“I didn’t —“ Cas pleads, but Dean cuts him off.

“Whatever, Cas.”

“Okay,” Cas holds his hands up in a retreat gesture, “I’ll leave you to your pity party then.”

“Yeah, sure. Why don’t you go back to your new boyfriend?”

Cas squints his eyes at him, surprised, “what are you talking about?”

Dean’s mouth seems to have separated from the part of him that controls his body, as he says, “You can go home with Benny. Or to his ratty couch, or wherever you two want to go down on each other. I’m going home.”

He’s about to slam the door of the Impala shut to turn her engine on, but Cas reaches out surprisingly fast before he even moves and ducks down to glare at him, both of his hands firmly locked on the lapels of Dean’s jacket. His blue eyes that Dean loves so much glare at him, a hint of rage glittering inside his irises.

“Is that what all this is about?” Cas asks, his voice so low it’s almost a growl, “Why do you even care who gets to bend me over?”

Thinking about Cas being bent over various objects twice in an hour is a bit too hard to handle for Dean’s foggy mind and thickening cock.

Fucking _hell._

“I don’t.”

“You evidently do. Why don’t you fucking cut the crap, Dean?”

It’s a goddamn growl this time, and Dean hates himself a little more because _fuck_ , experiencing Cas’ fury from this close, both of their noses almost brushing as Cas’ cobalt blue eyes burn with rage is doing _things_ to his arousal and going straight to his dick. 

“I —“

“Are you jealous because it’s me, and not you?” Cas releases the pressure on Dean’s jacket, puts a little more space between the two of them and Dean almost immediately feels the loss of Cas’ warms as he retreats, “You’re so used to having your ways with everyone, it pisses you off that I, for once, am having attention?”

“What? No!”

“You don’t think I’m good enough for someone to want me?” Cas keeps going, voice low and sweating with anger.

“No, Cas, fucking hell, it’s not about that!”

“Then, _what_?!” Cas almost cries out, and Dean’s heart shatters looking at him.

He looks so fucking pissed off, but also like he’s been hit by a truck, and Dean hates himself even more than he usually does, because he knows it’s his fault, and dammit, Cas doesn’t deserve this. He finally raises up from his seat, walking toward Cas who eyes him carefully.

Jo’s words are dancing inside his mind, “everyone knows but Cas”, and it’s like he can’t keep up with his bullshit anymore. If he has to lose Cas tonight, he’d rather be because he’s finally told him the truth rather than barging out of here without saying anything else than “go to Benny’s and have a good time while I cry my eyes out in my pillow because I’m the weakest son of a bitch this earth has ever known”.

To Hell with it.

“I’m jealous,” Dean says, locking eyes with Cas again, “not about you getting attention. Look at you, of course people are gonna want you.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Cas cuts off, watching as Dean comes closer.

“Okay, let me finish,” Dean says, “I’m jealous because I don’t want anyone to put their hands on you, not just Benny.”

There, he said it. And he can tell that Cas’ mind hasn’t clicked just yet, and for some reason — maybe it’s the alcohol, or the exhaustion, or the general chaos that has been raiding his entire body for an hour, he doesn’t know and doesn’t care — it fucking pisses him off.

“I’m in love with you, you fucking asshole,” he growls, surging forward to reach for Cas’ jaw, cupping his cheek, “and I can’t stand this anymore, I can’t keep it together, I can’t fucking do it, Cas.”

One of his hand sneaks on Cas’ waist, bringing him closer and Dean crashes their lips together, finally giving in to the sensation of Cas’ chapped lips against his.

And it would be the best damn kiss of his entire life, if only Castiel was kissing him back.

But he isn’t. He’s as stiff as a stone, as if Dean just invaded his private space without consent. Which is exactly what he just did. Dean retreats back then, moving his hand away from Cas like he’s touched fire. 

His insides are being torn apart as he shakily says “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t-to… I’m sorry, Cas. I’ll get out of your hair, you go back inside.”

It feels like everything’s coming down on him. Like the world has stopped spinning only for Dean to crash into it.

_There, you finally ruined the one good thing that’s happened to you in your entire life, you’ve finally managed to lose Cas because you’re unable to fucking keep it in your pants, you fucking dumbass. Are you happy now, Winchester?_

“Dean,” Cas voice says, and Dean barely registers, too wrapped up in his pity party to even realize Cas is there in his personal space again.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, not able to look at Cas’ face to see the damage he’s just caused.

“Dean! Look at me!”

The sudden change in Cas’ voice finally makes him snap out of his state of shock. When he finds Castiel’s face again, he notices the wetness glimmering inside Cas’ eyes.

Why is Cas on the verge of tears? And why are his hands on his cheek and chest?

Dean blinks once, unable to tear his eyes away from Cas, “why are you crying?”

“Because I’ve loved you my entire life, you stupid dense motherfucker,” Cas says, and at this point, it’s just a breathe, “and I can’t believe we’ve been stupidly oblivious all along.”

They’re so close that their noses are brushing, and Dean can’t help but close his eyes at the touch, both of his hands finding their place on Cas’ hip. Cas’ hand moves from his cheek to his jaw, and Dean opens his eyes again, finding Cas’ eyes on him, wild baby blues he could drown himself in.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean asks shakily.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Fair enough.”

“Because I thought for sure you didn’t love me that way. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. So I settled for the whole best friend and roommate act, because it sounded better than the alternative, letting you go.”

Dean is silent for a few seconds, the weight of those words falling down on him like shooting stars.

“I don’t want to go home with Benny, Dean,” Cas says, his mouth hovering on Dean’s jaw, his breath sending goosebumps all over Dean’s skin, “I want to go home with _you_ , you stupid, beautiful idiot.”

And then the world shakes as Castiel’s mouth captures his in the most tender kiss Dean has ever experienced. He clutches Cas closer, relishing in every little moan that Cas releases into his mouth, his lips soft and delicious against his own.

Cas’ fingers thread through Dean’s hair, making Dean whimper against him, his tongue licking across the seam of his lips, and Dean allows his tongue to meet Cas’, finally letting himself go and fully crashes into him.

It feels like falling apart, finally. It feels like the world is exploding, like it’s the final rush to finally feel _everything_. Dean has shared a countless amount of kisses in 26 years, and yet not a single one can compare to what it feels like to finally kissing Castiel. 

It feels like the world exhales as he presses into him, it feels like his whole life is exploding as his fingers wander under Cas’ shirt, every single inch of skin burning underneath his fingertips.

Dean pulls back just a whisker, his eyes wild as he gazes at Cas’ full-blown baby blues.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you like this, I didn’t expect to. It scares the shit out of me,” Cas kisses him again, chest tight against him, his lips hot and tender, “I want you to be mine and only mine. I can’t —“ Cas’ mouth is on him again, and Dean feels like he’s going to die on the spot because this is just _too much_ , “I don’t want to see anyone else’s hands on you, I want you to be mine.”

“Okay,” Cas whispers against his lips, a smile on his face, “Okay, Dean. Can we get the hell out of here now?”

“Yeah, okay.”

It’s all a blur starting from here. They get home, stumble onto the apartment they’ve been sharing for years while they share messy kisses along the way, clinging to each other as if one of them could disappear. Dean’s jacket gets thrown out somewhere between their couch and TV, so does Cas’ beloved trench-coat. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever experienced the bliss that kissing Castiel feels like, every single one of his touches against him sending fire underneath his skin. 

“Which bedroom?” Cas asks, panting against his mouth as Dean pins him against a wall.

“I — are you sure?” Dean asks, somewhat managing to be mildly concerned about consent, which is truly laughable seeing as they’ve both been pretty adamant about ripping each other’s clothes off those last few minutes.

Cas looks at him like he’s an alien, blue eyes staring at him, “I’ve wanted you for years, you idiot. I _need you._ Unless you don’t want that.”

Dean reaches out again, capturing Cas’ mouth in a filthy kiss, sucking on his tongue as Cas whimpers into his mouth. He figures that’s enough of an answer for Cas to understand.

“I don’t care which bedroom. Hell, we can even stay here.”

“Is that so?” Cas smirks, and Dean’s eyes sparkle as he fumbles with Cas’ belt buckle and tugs his jeans and boxers down his hips in a swift movement.

Cas can’t help but moan as Dean playfully nips at his ear, scattering kisses along his jaw, his hand finally wrapping around Castiel’s hardening dick, the other one holding onto his hip for balance.

“Nuh-uh,” he whispers into Cas’ ear as his best friend reaches out to touch at the bulge of his own arousal showing through his jeans, slapping his hand away, “later. I’m taking care of you first.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes hot against him as he works his hand, gasping softly as Dean’s thumb smears over the head of his cock, spreading the droplets of precome over the sensitive skin, “Jesus.”

“Definitely not my name, sweetheart,” Dean says as he watches Cas slowly losing it, his teeth helplessly sinking into his lower lips as an attempt to keep it together, “Come on, let yourself go.”

Dean slowly twirls his fingers around Cas’ cocks, delighted when Cas starts thrusting into his grips, hips rolling and gasping for air. 

“Good Cas, just like that,” Dean murmurs, his lips brushing along Cas’ cheekbone tenderly, “God, you look so hot like this.”

“Want you around me,” Cas whines, his hips rolling ever so quickly, “Need your mouth.”

“What’s that?” Dean grins, pretending he didn’t understand, forehead pressed against Cas and gaze fixed on him as Cas desperately tries to keep it together, “What d’you need, angel?”

“Ah _fuck_ , Dean,” Cas cries out as Dean cups his balls in his hand, “your goddamn mouth around my dick, you assho — _shit_ ”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Dean teases, kissing his lips softly before he sinks to his knees.

He carefully glides Cas’ boxers down his thighs, taking his sweet time leaving a trail of kisses from the curve of Cas’ hip to the tender flesh of his inner thigh. Castiel’s hands are carding through his hair then, his frustrated groans going straight to Dean’s dick as he raises his eyes to gaze at him through his eyelash.

“Get on with it,” Cas snarls, his fingers grabbing at Dean’s hair urgently.

And Dean is a simple guy, throw a bit of manhandling and submission into the game and he’s ecstatic. So when Cas slides his cock inside Dean’s mouth himself, rolling his hips and holding Dean’s face between both of his hands to keep him steady, Dean feels like he could come right here on the spot as a bolt of arousal snaps through his entire body. He moans around Cas’ cock as he takes it in, relaxing his jaw to allow him to sink in deeper and wrapping both of his hands around Cas’ hips, following his rhythm.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Cas moans as he thrust gently inside Dean’s mouth, hands cradling his face, “look at you and your mouth stretched around my dick, you look like — ahh shit, _Dean_ — you look like you were made for this.”

Dean can’t resist but reaches for his own cock growing heavy, strained inside his jeans. He let go of Cas’ hips to unbuckle his pants and take himself in hand, never letting go of Cas’ gaze. 

“Yeah, touch yourself, just like that,” Cas snarls as he increases his pace, the head of his cock bumping into the back of Dean’s throat with ease, “fuck, I’m so close, _Dean —“_

Dean pulls off slightly, earning a low whine from Cas as he works between his own legs steadily, twisting his wrist over the head of his dick, “want you to come down my throat, angel. Go on, fuck my mouth.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asks breathlessly, his thumb brushing over Dean’s cheekbone with a feather-light touch.

“Do it,” Dean snarls, chasing his own release.

Cas thrust back into Dean’s mouth with ease and Dean feels like he could explode — it’s too much, too good, the crest of pleasure coming down on him in waves as Castiel’s cock thrust into his mouth, filling him up to the core. Dean keeps his gaze solidly on Cas, watching him through his eyelashes as he slowly loses it, both of Cas’ hands framing his face so that he can’t move.

Somewhere in the back of Dean’s mind, there’s some form of content rising, knowing it’s his mouth, his tongue, the press of his skin on Cas which are making him go crazy. Dean could get lost in that feeling, relishing over the deep moans that come out of Castiel’s mouth as he finally spills down his throat, shaking and crying his name out as a litany.

Dean swallows the load quickly, his gaze unwavering as Castiel opens his eyes again and finds him. His thumbs brush lightly at Dean’s cheeks as he sinks on his knees and removes one from his face to reach for Dean’s cock.

“Let me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing Dean’s jaw tenderly, “let me take care of you?”

“Okay,” Dean breathes, and then Cas’ hand is on him and he can’t help but let out a deep whine, “Cas, _fuck —_ yes, yes _, yes_ ”

Cas’ hand works fast over the shaft of his aching cock, and Dean knows he’s close already.

“You’re so far gone already, just from blowing me,” Cas whispers against the shell of his ear, and Dean let himself go against him, Cas’ long finger sending him through ecstasy, “I can’t wait to watch you fall apart once I get inside of you.”

“Cas, I’m close —“ Dean moans, every single one of Castiel’s word echoing back with pleasure as he works faster over him, “so close.”

Cas’ lower his head to bite kisses into Dean’s collarbone, one of his hand squeezing Dean’s ass (which draws a whimper from Dean’s lips) while the other one keeps pumping steadily, and Dean shivers at the feeling of Castiel’s teeth nipping lightly at his skin. 

“Come for me, baby,” Cas whisper and Dean’s mind flashes white as he finally, _finally_ spills over Cas’ fingers.

Castiel’s mouth is still working alongside the skin of his neck, trailing gentle kisses until he finds that sweet spot underneath Dean’s jaw. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers softly, Dean’s eyes still closed, breathless.

“Yeah,” Dean pants, unable to move, “are you?”

“Yes.”

Dean finally turns his head, ever so slightly, just enough to catch sight of Cas. 

God, he looks like a sex-God.

“I love you.”

He’s already said it, and Cas already knows. But seeing him like this, pressed into him after they’ve both made each other come, somehow feels too much for Dean to keep it in.

Cas smiles, brushing his lips against Dean’s light stubble, “I love you too, you idiot.”

Dean let a laugh rumbles out of his chest before they finally move from their spot, cleaning themselves up before they head to bed — Dean’s bedroom turns out to be their first choice, mainly it’s the closest from the living room and they can’t seem to keep their mouths off of each other long enough to reach any other part of their apartment.

When Dean’s alarm goes off at 7 the next morning, he promptly shuts it off, shoots a text to his boss to tell him he’s caught a stomach bug, and turns over to nuzzle at the nape of Cas’ neck.

“Go away,” Cas groans, his voice heavy with sleep but Dean can detect a hint of fondness.

“I have a question,” Dean says, watching as Cas finally rolls over and blue eyes glare at him, “did you do it on purpose?”

Cas’ cocks an eyebrow at him, “what are you talking about?”

“Last night, with Benny. Did you do it on purpose, to see how I’d react?”

There’s a smile tugging at the corner of Castiel’s lips when he reaches out for Dean and kisses him softly, mapping the contour of his mouth with his tongue. Dean huffs with pleasure, clutching his best-friend — no, _boyfriend_ — closer.

“Maybe,” Cas says, lips still brushing against him, “Benny told me to give it a shot, to see how you’d react. I told him you wouldn’t care.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“So are you.”

“Yes, well… took us long enough to figure that out, uh?”

Castiel laughs, the weight of his body tight against Dean’s, and Dean sinks in the moment. 

It’s 7 am on a Saturday morning, and for the first time in a very long time, life doesn’t seem so bleak anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> _**rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/629229926593200128/the-best-of-fools)** _


End file.
